


Natural Blonde

by Awkward_bean_sky



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Otabek Altin, Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Background Otayuri, Background Relationships, Established Relationship, Gen, Hair Dyeing, Long-Haired Yuri Plisetsky, Minor Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, POV Yuri Plisetsky, Relationship isn't main focus, Self indulgent hc, Self-Indulgent, Teenage Rebellion, Yuri Plisetsky Is A Little Shit, otayuri - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:21:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22307080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awkward_bean_sky/pseuds/Awkward_bean_sky
Summary: There was something basically no one knew about him, only his grandfather, mother, coach and some old rink mates. Yuri Plisetsky wasn't a natural blonde.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Comments: 1
Kudos: 71





	Natural Blonde

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a stupid headcanon and I know nothing about bleach, so don't come at me.

There was something basically no one knew about him, only his grandfather, mother, coach and some old rink mates. Yuri Plisetsky wasn't a natural blonde.

At birth his hair was fair, but as he grew older it got darker. By the time he was 10 and left to train with Yakov, his hair had been a dark brown, nearly black color. 

He had often been bullied for it before he started bleaching it. The dark color was a stark contrast against his pale skin, making him look sick and fragile. It made his big, green eyes even more prominent, which gave him his first ever nickname "alien".

After he went to St Petersburg to train under Yakov, every choice, everything he did, said, ate had to be approved by his coach. Soon his image was changed. No one wanted to see a sickly looking child who had too much spunk for his own good.

At only 10 he was forced to sit in a barber shop for hours, tears in his eyes while his beloved hair was bleached. People made fun of him, but his hair was the only thing connecting him to his mother. His grandfather had always enjoyed playing with it and braiding it, telling him he looked beautiful despite what everyone said.

His new hair color was supposed to suit his new, innocent image. It made him look ethereal with his pale complexion and bright eyes. His natural agression was hidden behind fake smiles and stern shoulder squeezes from Yakov whenever he wanted to insult a reporter.

Yuri thought this was only going to be for his first season, for him to gain some fans, before he was able to go back to his usual hair color, but he had been mistaken. The public fell in love with the "Russian Fairy' seemingly overnight. His looks were a big part of that success.

So every couple of weeks, Yakov would force him to the hairdresser to get his roots redone. If he refused to get them done off season, he was forced to wear a beanie at all times outside, so that no one would ever know the truth.

He was sick of it. Sick of hiding his hair color and personality from the public. He didn't care about some stupid contract that forced him to do whatever Yakov wanted, he was going to break the circle. That was his decision at age 17 and he already knew exactly who was going to help him.  
_____

"Beka I need your help!", said Yuri as soon as the other answered the Skype call. He was wearing his beanie after not having dyed his roots in nearly three months they had grown out quite a lot since his hair grew fast.

"Jesus, it's nearly midnight here, Yuri", grumbled Otabek in response, switching on the light on his night stand and rubbing his eyes. By the looks of it he had been very rudely ripped from his sleep by his phone going off. 

Yuri almost felt bad. _Almost_. "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you, but this is very important", he whined, not sounding apologetic at all as he threw himself onto his bed, startling a sleeping Potya.

The cat glared at him before walking over and making herself comfortable next to him and seemingly falling back asleep immediately.

"What's going on. Did something bad happen?", Otabek asked, sounding concerned. He looked more awake now, observing the screen for any sign that Yuri was in danger.

"No, no, nothing bad happened, don't worry", he quickly said, sighing softly. "Okay, listen, this is kind of a secret and you can't tell anyone. If Yakov gets wind off this before I do it, he'll actually kill me."

The reassurance didn't seem to ease any of Otabek's concern, if anything it made him look even more stressed out. "I promise I won't tell anyone."

Yuri took a deep breath before pulling the beanie from his head. "I'm actually not a natural blonde", he said quickly. "Yakov has been forcing me to dye my hair since I was young to suit the image he had planned out for me, but I'm done with that. I want to get the bleach out of my hair and get piercings and do whatever I can to piss off the public."

Otabek didn't say anything and for a moment Yuri thought that the internet connection had gone down, before the man sat into motion. He grabbed for something off screen and pushed a pair of glasses onto his face. "Holy shit-", he mumbled as he stared at the screen. "You're not a blonde! It looked so natural!"

At that the Russian let out a laugh. "Well, it doesn't look all that bad, I have to admit, but I miss my natural hair color a lot. It's been years."

"Why the sudden decision to defy Yakov?", asked the Kazakh as he put his glasses aside again.

"I guess I want to prove people from my past wrong. My hair is nearly black naturally and people made fun of me. They said I looked sick and gross. It's the only thing I had in common with my mother. I just... want to be me again", he answered, feeling stupid for his reasoning.

Otabek just nodded in understanding. "How can I help you with that though? I live in Kazakhstan, if you forgot about it."

Yuri rolled his eyes. "Obviously I know you live in Kazakhstan. It's just that, while my hair has grown out pretty well in the past few months, it won't grow out completely before the season begins. And everything I've tried to get rid off the bleach hasn't worked. I thought you might have an idea", he explained, once again feeling stupid.

The other looked thoughtful, looking off into the distance, seemingly lost in his thoughts. "I could text my mother in the morning. She has a friend who's a hairdresser. Maybe she can help?", he suggested.

"That'd be great. Thank you", he said, a big smile on his face. He felt gleeful at the prospect of getting his natural hair back.  
_____

"Otabek look at my ears!!", yelled Yuri as soon as the call started, pointing his camera at his ear. He had two lobe piercings.

"Wow, it looks great", said Otabek, staring at the screen in awe.

When Yuri pulled back he was smiling like an idiot, showing his other ear by turning his head. He also had two lobe piercings on that one. "Yakov hasn't seen them yet. He'll be so pissed", he said, mischievous glint in his eyes.

"You really love pissing off people, don't you Plisetsky?", Otabek asked, sporting a matching smile. He had convinced Yuri that he was old enough to get piercings done despite what Yakov said.

"You know I do, Altin. I've already made an appointment to get two helix piercings done next month", he replied, feeling even more rebellious than he did before getting his first piercings.

"Maybe I should also consider getting some piercings to match yours."

God, Yuri was in love with this man.  
_____

Otabek's mother had asked her hairdresser friend and she had suggested a product to remove bleach. She had said it doesn't work 100% but he should still try it out.

Yuri had bought three packages of the stuff and locked himself in the bathroom after Lilia had gone to sleep. Now he stood in front of the mirror, massaging a black paste into his hair. The instructions said to massage it in for five minutes, let it sit for ten minutes and then wash it out.

He called Otabek once he had massaged it all in. The man picked up nearly immediately despite the fact that it was nearly two in the morning in Kazakhstan. He was sitting at the kitchen table, wearing his glasses with a pile of books opened in front of him.

"Eh, what are you still doing up?", asked Yuri, looking genuinely surprised.

"I'm studying for entrance exams for an online University", replied Otabek, stifling a yawn. "I wanna study music. Options for the futures and everything. What do you have in your hair?"

Yuri started grinning. "I'm using that product that supposedly gets bleach out of your hair. It needs to stay in my hair for ten minutes and then I need to wash it out."

Otabek propped his head up on his arms and looked on the screen. "Let's hope it works. I wanna see your natural hair", he said softly.

"If it doesn't work, I can send you old childhood pictures", Yuri suggested. "Now, how's it going with studying?"

They continued talking until the timer on Yuri's phone went off. "Okay, I'll quickly hop under the shower and wash it out. Wait for me?", said the Russian, already pulling off his shirt and waking off screen.

"Just hurry up", replied Otabek, blushing a bit and shyly looking away.

The shower was turned on off screen and Yuri quickly rinsed his hair out. He didn't dare look at it until he was dressed again. With a towel wrapped around his head to keep his wet hair up and his clothes back on, he stepped into view again.

"Ready?", he asked with an uncertain smile as he looked at Otabek, who was nodding vigorously. 

He closed his eyes and pulled the towel away. 

" _Holy shit_ ", whispered Otabek softly.

Yuri cracked an eye open and was faced with a version of himself that he could barely remember. His hair wasn't completely back to it's natural color, but it was still a medium brown. Or maybe his hair color had just naturally become lighter over the years? Who even knew at this point.

He just looked at his own expression and felt tears fall from his eyes. "I look like my mother", he whispered, still staring at himself in awe.

Yuri's mother had died when he was still young, he could barely remember her, and his father had run off shortly after his birth. He only had his grandfather left. He had a lot of pictures of his mother though, a beautiful young women who got ripped from life way too early.

"Yura, are you okay?", asked Otabek softly.

The Russian looked at the screen and wiped the tears from his face with the back of his hand. "I don't think I've ever been happier", he said, smile blossoming on his face. "Aside from our first kiss of course."  
_____

Yuri had posted a picture of his new hair the same night, captioning it "back to my natural color", before shutting his phone off for the night.

He knew Yakov would strangle him the next day for going against his wishes, but he didn't care. He was happy and felt more like himself than he ever had.

A lot had changed since he last was a brunette. He didn't look sick anymore. The color accented his cheekbones and strong jaw. His cheeks looked beautifully flushed and his big eyes looked striking. In his opinion, this was what the real him looked like.  
_____

The next day, Yuri woke up early. He turned his phone on again and scrolled through messages and social media.

All of his friends had messaged him, asking him if he'd dyed his hair and the comments on his newest post weren't much different. He rolled his eyes and made another post with an old childhood pictures of himself, a few weeks before he'd left for St Petersburg. He captioned it with "I didn't dye my hair brown, that's it's natural color"

He put his phone aside and started getting ready. He braided his hair down the side of his shoulder and did some makeup: blush, lip tint and eyeliner. If he was going to be killed by Yakov, he at least wanted to be a pretty corpse.

At 8 am the doorbell rang, Mila was on time, as always. He opened the door and nearly got run over as Mila entered. "Did you dye your hair?", she asked in a hushed voice, not wanting to wake Lilia. 

Yuri took one of the coffee cups she had been holding, grabbed his bag and exited the apartment, pulling her out behind him. "No I didn't dye my hair. This is my natural hair color", he replied as he started walking towards the subway station.

Mila ran to keep up with him. "If that's true, why have I never seen you with any other hair color than blonde?", she asked, thinking she had finally looked through his lie.

"You've never seen me with anything but blonde, because Yakov had me dye my hair ever since I was 10. I got me my nickname as the Russian Fairy during my first junior competition and people really praised my ethereal looks, so Yakov insistes that I keep dyeing my hair", he explained between sips of coffee.

This shut Mila up for the rest of the walk to the subway, the ride as well as the walk to the rink.  
_____

"Yuri Plisetsky!', Yakov's voice boomed through the rink as soon as the boy in mention had entered. Everyone present stopped doing what they were doing go watch the interaction, while Mila escaped from Yuri's vice grip on her arm. Bitch.

"I have been nice, not punishing you for any of your rebellious mishaps, for getting piercings, for dating, but this went to far. You have an image and right now you've ruined it!", yelled the old man as he stalked over to the entrance, his face as red as a tomato.

"Yakov, you're overreacting. I've been getting too old for this whole ethereal concept, so isn't it a good moment for a change?", he tried to reason with the man.

"That's not for you to decide! I'm your coach and need to look after your image. You can't just-" 

"I can't just what? Do whatever I want with my body? Have the hair color I want to have? Make my own choices. Yakov, I'm nearly an adult", spat Yuri back, glaring at his coach.

"Exactly. You're _nearly_ an adult. Until your 18th birthday, I am your legal guardian while you're in St Petersburg or overseas. Just think about what your grandfather would have to say about this."

"My grandpa will be fucking proud once I've told him. He loves my hair. And maybe it's time for me to get a coach who supports my decisions and doesn't force me to be someone I'm not", he said with venom in his voice.

His coach flinched at that, his color returning back to normal as he sighed. He always looked so old when talking to Yuri and he felt like he probably made the man age nearly 20 years since they've met.

"You're just so impulsive. Think about your decisions for once", he said while messaging the bridge of his nose. "Go home, Yuri. You're dismissed for today. Just do your stretches and don't defy your meal plan."

Yuri stormed off.  
_____

"It's just not _fair_ , Beka", he whined, hugging Potya closer to his chest. The cat protested, but eventually gave up 

"Yakov's wrong, you know? You should be able to make your own decisions. Maybe you should actually consider looking for a new coach", replied Otabek while eating a sandwich, it was his lunch break.

Yuri sighed heavily. "I don't know. Yakov has put up with my shit for so long, the least he deserves is that I win more medals for the rink. Besides he usually calms down after a few days", he mumbled, voice muffled by fur.

They continued talking for a while until Otabek had to get back to practice. Hopefully Yakov would actually come around in the next couple of days.  
_____

He did come around. After being let off training for a few days, Yakov allowed him to come back. While he still wasn't happy about Yuri's decision, he allowed him to keep his natural hair color during the season.

The news of Yuri Plisetsky's new hairdo quickly spread over the internet. Most people very happy for him and thought that the color suited him very well. Others were confused as to why he had been dyeing his hair and hiding it's true color for all these years.

The comments of him looking sick and weird started up again after about two days. His fans defended him, saying that he color accentuated his sharp features and eyes, while the haters started calling him "the fallen Fairy". 

Yuri didn't care about any of this. The only people who mattered to him, his grandpa and his boyfriend, both were more than supportive of his decision. He started posting more selfies of himself, even some with makeup on, feeling beautiful.

In the end, it didn't matter if people thought he looked better blonde, because Yuri Plisetsky wasn't a natural blonde and he never again would be a fake blonde.


End file.
